


You're Falling, But You're No Leaf

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Peterick, Someone Came in Unannounced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-22 00:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete Wentz is trying to find out if he is really in love with Patrick Stump, and if Patrick feels the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Falling, But You're No Leaf

Lying awake, constant wondering. Too scared to just ask, once you ask there's no take-backs. So being scared isn't that futile of an emotion right now, he's just more scared than one should be.

'Fuck, what if by the time I ask, he doesn't care about me anymore. What if he didn't in the first place? Or maybe if I don't ask now, like right now, he'll find someone else. Okay, I think that isn't going to happen, but still.' Pete turns over to look at the clock 3:33 a.m.

'I know he doesn't like getting woken up at this hour so....'

They are recording their new album, and they are currently staying in a small apartment, somewhere none of them can remember. One bedroom, a bathroom, living room and kitchen mix, and nearly no privacy. Joe sleeps on the couch, Andy on the recliner, and Pete and Patrick share the bedroom. Patrick on the bed and Pete on the floor, in a makeshift sleeping-bag.

'Okay I think this is all in my head. Just try to forget, go to sleep-like that's going to happen-and try to act normal tomorrow. I mean today.' Pete stares at the ceiling for what he thinks is awhile, but it's really only two-minutes, then decides to get up. He fumbles for his pants and a notepad, then goes into the bathroom using the toilet as a seat, and the counter next to it as a table, he starts to write.

_im coming apart at the seams-pitching myself the leads in other peoples dreams now-buzz buzz buzz doc theres a hole where something was doc theres a hole where something was-'hey editor im undeniable hey doctor im cerifiable'-im a loose bolt of a complete machine-what a match im half doomed and youre semi sweet_

Before he knows it, the sun is out and everyone's waking up. Joe goes into the bathroom, and Pete is still writing.

"Dude, what are you doing in here?" Joe asks, rubbing his eyes awake. Pete is in his own world right now, Joe just stands in the doorway waiting for a response. "Pete, you there?"

"What are you doing up?" Pete doesn't look up.

"It's like, seven or something," Joe looks at the clock hanging on the wall and points at it, "See." Pete looks up, it's 7:47 a.m. "Now could you move before I pee on you."

"Oh, sorry." Pete gets up, drops his pen in the garbage can by accident, "Shit," He picks it up and washes it in the sink. Joe is staying completely silent while Pete staggers his way out of the bathroom. Andy is sitting at the table, eating breakfast, and reading the newspaper that he had them sign up for while they stay here for a few weeks. He forgot his comic books, so he makes due with whatever he can find in there.

"Where's Patrick?" Pete asks as he opens the fridge door to find something to eat.

"How should I know? You're the one who's sharing a room with him." Andy says, with just a bit of tart.

"I didn't sleep in there last night." Andy shrugs and gets back to reading. Pete doesn't get anything out of the fridge, but he stares for a few minutes, zoned out.

"Are you okay?" Joe asks as he comes out of the bathroom. "You left a bunch of papers in the bathroom." Joe hands Pete everything, which is pretty much a notebook worth of paper.

"Thanks."

"Uh-huh." They all know that Pete isn't quite right, but they still are concerned for him. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"I think so."

"Okay, well.... Pete, stop being all weird, okay?" Joe is sucked into the wonder of what is wrong with Pete... again.

"I can't promise anything." Pete grins, the signal that everything is fine. Joe starts making coffee-even though it tastes like sewage. Pete scratches the back of his head and shuts the fridge door, he turns around and head towards the bedroom. He puts his ear to the door to listen if Patrick's up. Silent. He quietly turns the knob and peaks in. The curtains on the one window are see-through so the room is lit up, pleasantly with morning light. Patrick is on his bed, sheets kicked off, one hand on his stomach and the other on his....

"Hey Patrick-" Pete starts and then sees what's going on.

"Pete, I uh. I can, um. Get out!" Pete starts blushing, and then inappropriately grinning. "Dude!" Patrick gestures for Pete to get out.

"Yeah, sorry." Pete backs out and closes the door. He goes into the kitchen and sits down at the table, stealing the cup of coffee Joe had put on the table for himself.

"Is he up?" Andy asked, although he doesn't really care, but he knows Pete will tell him anyway.

"Yeah.... He's definitely up." Pete leaves the cup on the table and sips it like that. Joe pours himself a new cup, and they all sit in silence for about ten minutes. Pete can't help but think about what Patrick is doing in there, he can't help but think about being in there with him. The bedroom door opens, Pete stares at Patrick then Patrick awkwardly goes into the bathroom. Pete is grinning at his coffee, when Patrick gets out of the bathroom and goes into the living room.

"How'd you sleep, Patrick?" Pete inquires. If only Patrick was as shameless as Pete was at times.

"Asshole." He mumbles back.

"Woah, what pissed you off?" Joe asks.

"I figured Pete told you, just to make the rest of our stay here uncomfortable."

"Pete hasn't said a word. What happened?"

"I walked in on him jerking off." Pete beams a shit-eating grin at Patrick, and Patrick gives him the finger. Andy is in his own world, and Joe bursts out laughing.

"Man, gotta be better than your parents walking in!" Joe stops laughing long enough to get that out.

"Fuck both of you."

The morning is awkward and the rest of the day is long, the night is fairly uneventful. When everyone is off to their own corners, Patrick is stuck with Pete, but that isn't too bad because Pete has been writing most of the day.

_sometimes i wanna quit this all and become an accountant now-but im no good at math and besides the dollar is down-plant palm trees on lake michigan before it gets cold-i gotta feel the wind chill again before i get old-i wanna scream i love you from the top of my lungs-but im afraid someone else will hear me_

"Whatcha writing?" Patrick asks, trying to peak at the notebook.

"Lyrics, I think."

"Can I see some?"

"Sure" Pete rips out a few pages and hands them to Patrick, not really afraid of judgement, especially since Patrick is pretty much the lyric translator.

"You could've knock me out with a feather." Patrick sings. Pete's face lights up.

"You think they're any good?"

"These are great, I already can think of a melody for this one." Patrick reads over a few more pages, "Baby, you're a classic, like a little black dress. You're a faded moon, stuck on a little hot mess."

"You can make anything sound good."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Patrick blushes.

"Seriously, you could probably tell someone a loved one died, and it'd sound not so bad, because you sang it."

"Oh, stop it." Patrick sweeps some hair behind his ear.

"Why? Flattery never hurt anyone." Their eyes meet. Pete sits up from his previous lying on his stomach position.

"That's probably not true." Patrick laughs. Pete reaches over to grab Patrick's hand.

"Pete, what are you doing?" Patrick takes his hand away slowly.

"I.... You had some ink on your hand, I was just trying to get it off." Pete doesn't sound very convincing. Patrick checks his hand.

"That's where you got ink on me." He shows his hand to Pete.

"Maybe I'm psychic, and I was predicting the future?"

"Yeah, surrrrre." Patrick looks at Pete, "It's getting late, we should get some sleep."

"Yeah." Patrick hands Pete the papers, and gets up to turn out the light.

"Night, don't forget, we gotta get up at eight to go do the recordings."

"I won't. Night" Pete responds.

The next morning everyone gets up, reluctantly and not-so-bright and early, except Pete. Gathered around the table, they're trying to determine who gets to wake him up.

"Well since yesterday, I'm not waking anyone up." Joe argues, "Hey, Patrick, you should do it, maybe you'll get some payback."

"I don't want payback. Ever." Patrick laughs. "Andy?"

"Nope."

"So, that's leaves you Patrick." Joe snickers.

"How about we just knock on the door, or something?"

"That'd be no fun. Besides he might actually be asleep, we know he doesn't wake up to noise."

"Fine.... You owe me, guys, okay? You owe me big." Patrick points at both them, then gets up from the table. He starts towards the door. "I'm approaching the door, wish me luck." He pokes the door, not expecting anything to happen, then opens it. Pete is asleep, just in his boxers.

"Pete, wake up." Patrick squats down and tries to shake him awake, "Hey, Pete." Pete wakes up and makes a few weird noises, and stretches.

"What?" Making no effort to get up, he uses his hands as a pillow.

"We got recordings in...." Patrick looks around the room for a clock, finds one and something else. "Twenty minutes. And um, I don't really know how to say this, but um, you got, uh, something...." Patrick gets up embarrassed as hell and backs away like there is a bomb strapped to Pete's crotch. Pete looks down, come to find, he's hard. He doesn't know how he didn't notice, because it's actually so hard, that it's a little painful. Not really knowing how awkward this is for Patrick, he sits up.

"Well, yeah. Crazy dream I guess." Pete does a bit of an awkward 'heh' trying to find something else to look at in the room.

"Okay. Well, yeah twenty minutes." Patrick pretty much runs out of the door and shuts it.

"He awake?" Joe asks.

"Mmhmm." Patrick says, slowly shaking his head up and down.

Pete decides to not take care of it right now, as much as he wants to. He instead gets up and tries to put on a pair of tight jeans. Not a good idea. He doesn't remember much of his dream, but he knows Patrick was a big part of it. After many attempts, and really awkward stuffing, he gets his jeans on. He grabs a tee-shirt and a hoodie and slides them on while working towards the table.

"You all ready? We gotta get going." Andy asks as he gets up from the table.

"I am, and it looks like everyone else is." Pete answers. They all get up from the table, get their shoes and head out the door. The studio is only ten minutes away, so before they know it, their there. The whole day Patrick can't look Pete in the eyes. Patrick has to push Pete away a few times, when he tries to whisper something to him. All in all, the day wasn't so bad, well at least for everyone but Patrick. Pete had an hour break to write some more before they left.

_something make my chest stir-something make my head blur-im not ready for a handshake with death no-im just such a happy mess-the drums are four on the floor-shes back to the bedroom for one more-im the invisible man who cant stop staring at the mirror-i want to make you as lonely as me so you can get addicted to this now-its three drinks to late to talk to anyone but myself-its a three and two pitch to walk to anyway else_

After they finish in the studio, at around 6:00 p.m. they all go for dinner at the first pizza place they find.

"Man, good thing we don't have to go in tomorrow, I'm wiped." Joe says, "I was planning on wandering the town, anyway. Anyone wanna come?"

"I'll go." Andy chimes in.

"How 'bout you two?" Joe looks up at Pete and Patrick-who are both trying really hard not to notice each other.

"Nah, I'm just gonna stay in." Patrick says.

"Yeah, think I'm going to stay in too." Pete is doing this mostly so Patrick will say something to him, maybe.

"Suit yourselves." Joe says through a mouth-full of pizza. They all finish, making jokes about the day, and things of the like. Once they leave, Andy, and Joe go their way, and Pete and Patrick go home. Silence the whole way there, Pete and silence are like day and night, so if he doesn't get to say something soon, he'll likely explode. He finally goes to opens his mouth as they walk in the door-hanging coats (on the floor), and removing hats-but Patrick says something first.

"Pete, what was this morning and last night about?"

"Nothing." Pete shrugs.

"Come on, everyone knows 'nothing' is something." Pete sighs, and thinks up an elaborate excuse, one that probably won't fool Patrick, but still worth a try.

"Like I said, you had ink on your hand, and this morning just a hot dream, I guess." Okay, so falling short of elaborate.

"'I guess?' You fucking guess and 'ink on my hand!' Pete, you've been acting all fucking weird with me for the past few days, I want fucking answers!" Patrick-out of no where-is clearly pissed.

"Woah, chill it."

"I'm not going too, I'm getting tired of your shit! We're supposed to be best friends, but you're be all fucking secretive and shit, and it's pissing me off!"

"How can you be 'tired of my shit?' You know you have 'shit' too, like how you've been fucking avoiding me all fucking day, just because you're embarrassed!" They both pause and just look at each other.

"Pete,"

"What?" He answers, breathlessly.

"We sound like an old couple...." Patrick sighs and they both let out a laugh.

"Jesus Christ, we do. What the hell just happened?"

"We should try talking like normal people."

"Normal... hmmm."

"Yeah, I know." They both sit down at the table, because that's what you do when trying to have a serious conversation.

"Okay, this is me asking nicely. What was going for my hand all about?" Pete bites his lip, trying to find an excuse but coming up empty. Guess its time to tell the 'truth'.

"I don't know, my head has been a mess since we've been here, and I was just trying to give it what it wants."

"And what does 'it' want? And what does it have to do with me?"

"I'm not sure, I guess I just got too lonely." Pete has his hands clasped on the table and stares at them.

"Lonely, as in you where going for my hand to get closer to me?" Patrick is sweating, a little freaked out about Pete apparently having feelings for him.

"I wouldn't say you in particular," Liar, "But just someone. I didn't know that bothered you this much." Pete adjust his chair a little closer to Patrick, he doesn't know why, though.

"Well, I'm not sure why it bothered me so much. But if you need, like a hug or something... I'm here." Pete immediately drags his chair over to Patrick the rest of the way with his feet-making a screeching sound on the hardwood floor-and hugs him tight.

"You know, I think what some people don't know is that when you're depressed, a hug could change it all. To feel someone else's heartbeat for once, to know someone cares. But a good hug, not the forced kind. The cry on your shoulder, non-judgmental, 'I get where you're coming from and I'm going to fix it' kind." Pete doesn't let go, but Patrick is getting a little uncomfortable. Patrick pats Pete on the back, hopefully indicating the hug is over.

"Well-" Patrick starts, but is stopped by Pete when he stops the hug, and plants his lips on Patrick's. Pete has a tight grip, so Patrick doesn't have much room to move away. "Woah!" Pete pulls away and stands up, covering his face with his hands.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, I didn't, I mean, I. Sorry."

"Pete-" Patrick blinks hard, trying to orient himself, again, "You're more than lonely. You have feelings for me, don't you?" Down to the real business now.

"I didn't mean it like that. Oh, who am I kidding anymore? Patrick I don't know why, but I have been having feelings for you. This morning, I woke up from a dream, and you were in it, a lot. And you seen the results. I mean look at me now, I'm a fucking wreck!" Pete laughs a manic laugh. "I don't know if the side effects of something, or if this is real, but going by what I'm feeling now, it's real."

"I don't know what to say."

"Just defuse the bomb now. Tell me I'm crazy or that you hate me now. Tell me you never want to see me again, and you think the band should break up, tell me I just need a girlfriend," Pete is starting to cry at this point. "Just tell me the truth. Please." He drops to the floor, hands over his face, soaked with tears. Patrick is speechless, and frozen in place, still trying to process everything.

"Pete," Patrick gets up and goes to sit next to Pete. "I really don't know what to say, but this doesn't ruin anything, we are still friends, okay?" Pete nods his head. "I don't know if just friends is enough, but it won't end because of this." Pete looks up, red-nose, puffy eyes, feeling like a child.

"I'm sorry." Patrick is sitting Indian-style, and rubbing Pete's back as he rocks back and forth. "This is probably a stupid question but.... er never-mind. Forget I said that." Patrick lifts Pete's head up, meeting his eyes, and leans in for a kiss. Passionate, tender, and even better since Patrick isn't fighting it. Pete comes out of the shell he made himself, and slowly pushes Patrick to the floor, flat on his back, he straddles Patrick's hips. Pete breaks the kiss.

"Do you really want this? Because this is pretty fucked up if you're just doing this to make me feel better." Pete asks.

"I want this." That's all Pete needs to hear. Pete takes off Patrick's shirt, and does the same with his. Pete kisses Patrick's chest up and down. He gets to Patrick's belt, removes that, unzips his pants, and from there on. It's fireworks.

_im the young one stuck in the thoughts of an old ones head-and while the others are just stirring awake-im trying to trick myself to fall asleep again-my heads in heaven my soles are in hell-lets meet in the purgatory of my hips and get well-hurry hurry you put my head in such a flurry flurry-oh freckle freckle-what makes you so special? what makes you so special?-im gonna leave you-im gonna teach-how we're all alone_


End file.
